


Replacement for the Dead

by Welfycat



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: stargateland, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welfycat/pseuds/Welfycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Jonas Quinn's first week working as a member of the elite ViCAP Unit, but his arrival is complicated by the recent death of Agent Daniel Jackson.</p><p>This AU takes place at a time that would be analogous to the start of season six of SG-1. The setting is strongly <i>inspired</i> by the show Criminal Minds, but is not set in the same universe, nor as a fusion nor a crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replacement for the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Written for StargateLand's Alternate Realities challenge.  
> Content Notes: Discussion of character death. Discussion of (unrelated) murder. Violent imagery.

Jonas Quinn sat down in the bullpen after carefully placing his satchel on the surface of the desk. His desk now, though he could tell from the mess of papers and stacks of books at the empty desk across from him that it wasn't Daniel Jackson's old desk. He wondered how long it would be before his still grieving teammates would pack away Agent Jackson's belongings. Or how long it would take before Section Chief Hammond descended from his office into the bullpen to direct Jack O'Neill to do so. He suspected that in either case it would be a while; even Jonas, who had spent most of his professional career with the CIA and hadn't had the chance to brush up much on profiling until now, could see that the team was handling Jackson's death poorly.

Supervisory Special Agent Jack O'Neill, their Unit Chief, had closed himself off to the entire team and hadn't even looked in Jonas's direction when Jonas had arrived and been reintroduced. Jonas suspected that O'Neill blamed him for Jackson's death, and wouldn't be surprised if the rest of the team held similar feelings. He could understand that; Agent Jackson had died during a bomb explosion - disappearing into a cloud of white light - while working on a case with the CIA. Jonas should have been the one in that section of the building, his team at the CIA had cleared the building themselves and several of them had died along with Jackson. Truth be told, Jonas thought as he ran his fingers across the smooth surface of his almost empty desk, he wasn't even sure why he was here except that he knew he couldn't go back to the CIA. He just hadn't been expecting to wind up with the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program, which was O'Neill and his team, when he requested to transfer into the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.

It might not have been so bad if they'd actually recovered Agent Jackson's body, because while O'Neill seemed to be avoiding the topic entirely all the while storming around like a lion with a thorn in his paw, the rest of the team didn't seem entirely convinced that Jackson was dead. SSA Sam Carter had already shown him the search algorithms she'd put in her computers to look for any signs that Jackson had shown up somewhere else with an alias or signs that he was trying to covertly communicate with them. The unsub, which was the BAU's lingo for unknown subject or the violent offender they were looking for in layman's terms, had fixated intensely on Jackson and both Carter and Teal'c seemed to believe that it was possible that Jackson was trying to stay low and clear until it was safe to contact them.

When Jonas had, as tactfully as possible, pointed out that they'd seen that section of the building blow up, Sam and Teal'c had just stared at him for a long moment before Sam had explained that they thought Daniel had died before, several times, and had been proven wrong on each occasion. Jonas had nodded and tried not to look like he thought that their team, with five years together in the field, had maybe been at the job too long if they actually believed that Jackson had survived an explosion like that. He had also not suggested that the entire team probably needed a good deal of grief counseling and probably some serious time off or even transfers into different units.

He knew from his time with the CIA that people in their line of work mostly had to be ordered to take vacations and down time, and only actually complied when they had no choice. Jonas was a bit of a workaholic himself, which he justified with the fact that he actually enjoyed his job on an intellectual level, and tended to remain cheerful and upbeat despite the grim subject matters he usually dealt with. In a way, he was looking forward to focusing more on psychology and profiling people face to face after spending years in the antiterrorism division, with most of that behind a computer or working counter-intelligence.

Jonas looked up from where he was tracing the edge of his bag, containing the few things he thought he might possibly need even though he was certain his desk would soon buried under mounds of paperwork and reports just like all the rest of the desks in the bullpen. Well, except for the desk directly across from him, which looked orderly and neat without being obsessively so. Teal'c approached, his bare arms and face glistening with sweat, and sat down in the chair at the very neat desk and turned on his computer.

While the computer beeped and started to boot up, Teal'c's gaze travelled to the desk that was bumped against his, Sam's desk - scattered with pieces of hardware as well as three monitors - and then over to the desk across the aisle where Jackson's books were still in piles with a few still spread open. His focus remained there for a long moment, his brow creasing slightly before the expression disappeared and Teal'c looked at Jonas.

Jonas didn't bother to try to pretend he hadn't been watching Teal'c, it wouldn't have helped. Instead he just smiled as broadly as he thought it was appropriate when approaching a coworker who was obviously contemplating his recently deceased teammate. "Have a good workout?" Jonas asked, a little at a loss as what to say to the other man.

Teal'c hadn't done much more than nod and watch with mild suspicion when Jonas had been reintroduced, but Jonas remembered from the joint case they'd worked together that was pretty standard for Teal'c when interacting with people who weren't on his team. Except now Jonas was on his team, and was left with the task of somehow bridging that gap. It wouldn't happen overnight, even though Sam already seemed reasonably friendly, but Jonas was pretty sure that neither Sam nor Teal'c would fully accept him as one of them until O'Neill came around. Jonas wasn't even sure how to begin there.

"I was teaching a hand to hand combat class at the FBI Academy. Whenever we are at Quantico when classes are scheduled I teach one of the sessions," Teal'c explained evenly.

"That sounds like fun. I'm sure you're an asset to the classes," Jonas said brightly. This was something positive they could talk about, maybe bond a little. "I've taught a few seminars in counter-intelligence at the Academy."

"Unfortunately many of the students are not ready to be out in the field, despite their beliefs that they are more capable than the perpetrators of criminal activity. Undoubtably you've discovered the same of your pupils," Teal'c said, his body language expressing interest as he leaned forward slightly.

"Ah, well, I didn't really have the opportunity to get to know many of the students long term," Jonas said quickly. "But they seemed to be interested and their questions in the seminar indicated that they were capable of pursing the topic if they wished."

"That may be so for activities that allow you to remain in the office. Combat and physical fitness are necessary skills for survival. I look forward to sparring with you, Agent Quinn," Teal'c said, keeping eye contact with Jonas.

Jonas's smile faltered for a brief moment as he thought of sparring with Teal'c. He was reasonably fit, he kept up with his training unlike some of the agents who solely preferred desk work, but he had no doubts that Teal'c could have him on the floor within a minute - and that was a generous estimate. "Sounds like fun," he offered, wondering how much unconscious hostility Teal'c actually might feel towards him and whether or not he could postpone that meeting until after Teal'c had got to know him a little bit.

"Could the ViCAP team assemble in the conference room? You have a case," Walter Harriman, the agent who was in charge of distribution of cases to the various teams that made up the BAU, called from the balcony that overlooked the bullpen.

Jonas got to his feet and picked up his bag, his heartbeat speeding up with the small rush of adrenaline. This was his first case with ViCAP and as he watched Teal'c pull out his cellphone to call Sam and as O'Neill walked out of his office with a determined expression, Jonas was sure there was no where else he wanted to be.

*****

They had been on the case in Savannah Georgia for two days and a new body had shown up in a warehouse only a few hours before. It was getting late into the evening, they already had a missing persons report on a young man who had disappeared the day before. Sam believed he was likely the next victim of the serial killer they were hunting.

Jonas sat back against the edge of the table in the conference room the local police department had set aside from them. When they'd first arrived he'd helped Sam to arrange the evidence boards; creating a time line, organizing information about the victims and a map that marked where each victim was taken and where their bodies were discovered. Despite all of the effort and long hours they'd put into the case, he didn't think they were any closer to finding the unsub. Agents O'Neill and Teal'c were still out on the streets, O'Neill mentioning something about getting an idea what the area was like in the evenings, which was the most probable time for the abductions to have occurred. Sam had looked up from her laptop, the silent exchange taking only seconds but effectively communicating both her concern for their safety and their assurance that they would be fine.

Sam sighed, looking up from the file that contained the original interviews the police department had done with the victims' families. "I think we're going to have to reinterview tomorrow. I hate putting the families through that again, but as it stands the victimology doesn't make sense for an organized killer," she said as she flipped the file shut and walked over to the evidence board.

"We've got both men and women, a variety of ages yet no children, no single ethnicity or body type, but all of them were overpowered in an area that was populated and were taken without anyone realizing something was wrong," Jonas summarized as he looked over the board one more time despite knowing all of the information that was displayed. The sound of Teal'c's voice echoed in his mind from when they had delivered the preliminary profile only early this morning: _Organized. Methodical. In absolute control of the situation from the time when he chooses his victims until after he kills them._

"The threat from the unsub must have been so overwhelming that none of the victims chanced calling for help. Even if he had a gun or a knife, the unsub would have had to have stood so it was concealed from anyone passing by," Sam said with a frown as she looked at the map of abduction sites and then turned to the pictures of the streets where the victims had been abducted. "But I don't think he had a gun. Or even a knife."

"Why not?" Jonas asked. He figured that if he was going to abduct someone, he would probably have a gun. It was far easier to establish the threat of deadly force with a gun than it was without any weapon at all, even for someone as tall and muscular as Teal'c. Jonas was a few inches shorter than Teal'c, and while he stronger than the average guy, he wasn't going to be able to intimidate someone into going without a struggle if they thought they could get help in a populated area.

Sam pulled her Glock 17 out of the holster she wore at her back, checking the safety before motioning Jonas over to stand next to her. "The first victim was a gymnast, and the third a volunteer firefighter. Wait here."

Jonas twisted around to see where Sam was going but she twirled her finger to indicate that he should turn away from her. He did, staring at the board in front of him at the pictures of the two victims she'd mentioned. A moment later he felt the barrel of Sam's gun pressed into his back and her body close enough that it would block anyone nearby from seeing what was happening. "Sam, what?" he asked, his heart racing even though he was pretty sure that Sam was doing some type of bizarre role play.

"I've got a gun pressed against your back, but there are people nearby. I'm telling you to come with me and to be quiet, not to attract attention. By now you know I mean business, that you'll probably die if you go with me. But, you're strong and I'm right behind you. What do you do?" Sam said, her voice calm yet with a hint of mania as she pressed the gun in a little harder. "Don't think, you don't have time, just do what comes naturally."

The last of hesitation broke from Jonas as he turned in one smooth motion, becoming the firefighter and the gymnast. He was strong and the movement would take the unsub by surprise. He gripped the barrel of the gun, first pointing it away from him and then taking it from her grasp completely. Jonas gave a little gasp as he realized what he'd done and then sheepishly handed Sam her gun back. "I see what you mean. Do you guys always role play like that?" It was nothing like what they did while they were solving cases at the CIA. That usually revolved around stacks of paper and long discussions about contingency plans.

"Sometimes. It can be helpful to get into the role of the unsub, or even the role of the victim. See what they saw, feel what they felt. Our instincts in a moment can tell us more about what might have happened than a lab report or a photograph," Sam explained. "Usually we don't use props though."

"I see," Jonas said, smiling even as he felt the quick adrenaline rush from the scenario recede.

Sam holstered the weapon and turned back to the board. "It's a possibility that they were too immobilized with fear to fight back, but from the interviews with their families it didn't seem likely that they would have frozen in that situation," she said as she shook her head. "But if he wasn't using force, how did he get them to come with him without drawing attention? No one we've interviewed has mentioned seeing any disputes in the streets in that area of the city."

"Maybe the unsub knows his victims, lured them away without any force at all? I know we didn't find any connection between them, but maybe we're missing something. Like, a clerk at a store they all frequent?" Jonas asked mostly to himself as he turned away from the map and to the photos of the dump sites. "Or, maybe the unsub knows them, but they don't know the unsub? Look at the positioning of the bodies, how carefully their limbs are resting against their bodies. That suggests remorse, and it would make sense that he wouldn't use threats of violence or force to get his victims to go with him."

Sam blinked as she plucked the picture of the most recent victim from the board. "The streaks on his face. The unsub was wiping the blood and tears away from his eyes. We need to re-canvas the areas near the abduction sites. Ask not only about disturbances, but look for people who would see more than they're seen. This is someone who feels a connection to his victims, maybe before he even meets them."

Jonas pulled the folders that contained the rest of the dump scene photographs and listened as Sam called O'Neill, her voice vibrant as she described what they'd come up with.

"Come on, Jack wants us out doing interviews. The unsub probably won't be there if he has a victim captive already, but maybe we can find out who is missing that would usually be present," Sam said when she hung up her phone and pulled her jacket off the chair.

Jonas grabbed his own jacket, checking his holster at his hip as they hurried away from the conference room. "Even if he isn't, I think I have an idea of where we might find him."

Sam turned as they walked, a bright smile relaxing her usually tense eyes. "I think I'm going to like you, Agent Quinn," she said with just a hint of sadness.

He didn't answer, instead he pushed open the doors to the police station and walked out into the fall evening with Sam at his side. They had an unsub to catch and someone to rescue.

*****

It was a day and a half later, when Sam and Jonas were driving to the funeral of the second victim, when Jonas had the realization that they were going to the wrong place.

"Turn around we need to go back to the industrial section of the city. The warehouses," Jonas instructed.

To her credit, Sam immediately changed lanes and managed to do a U-turn without any near collusions and drove back into the heart of the city. "You said it yourself, the unsub feels a connection, feels remorse. He should want to be at the funeral," she said as she drove.

Jonas dug through his bag, pulling out the pictures of the warehouse where the second victim had been dumped. "He should, but he probably won't. The body was left just the way he wanted it, the way he arranged it. He's not going to want to see it arranged in a casket. It would destroy the fantasy for him," Jonas explained as he looked at the picture of the second victim. Her hair was spread out around her head and her arms were cradling each other against her stomach.

"But we have officers stationed at the warehouse in case he tries to revisit the scene," Sam pointed out.

"At all five warehouses, all the time?" Jonas asked, already knowing that there were only officers stationed around the clock at the most recent scene and only for a few days. The rest of the warehouses would be checked on a regular patrol, but with enough time that the unsub could observe the routine and sneak inside without any trouble.

Sam nodded. "I take it we're going to the warehouse where the second victim was found?"

Jonas thought for a moment, trying to decide if the burial of the body after it was moved and altered by someone other than the unsub would be momentous enough to cause the unsub to revisit the dump site. "No, the warehouse where the third victim was found. You're the one who saw the patterns in the intervals between the abductions and deaths. This would be the anniversary of the third victim's death, even if the body wasn't discovered until a day later."

"Call Jack and Teal'c, tell them to meet us there," Sam instructed. "If you're right, then he could be preparing to kill the man he's had captive."

Jonas pulled his phone from his pocket, not adding the 'if he hasn't already' that was at the tip of his tongue. He called Teal'c; after already having been dismissed more than once by O'Neill, Jonas wasn't ready to try and defend himself over the phone and deal with the possibility that O'Neill would order them to the funeral instead. If Agent O'Neill was anything like people said he was, he would come and provide them backup even if he disagreed with their analysis.

When he hung up Jonas looked at Sam with a somewhat grim expression. "They're across town, fifteen minutes away, but they're coming," he said.

Sam nodded as she pulled the SUV to the side of the road just out of sight of the warehouse. The funeral was set to start at three o'clock, which based on Sam's analysis was an important number for the unsub. They had five minutes. She sat for a moment, apparently weighing the possibilities. "Kevlar vests are in the back. Stay close and keep your gun ready," she said finally as she undid her seatbelt.

Jonas swallowed but got out of the car and accepted a vest from Sam. The last time he'd worn a vest like this it had said CIA instead of FBI, and a group of his agents as well as Agent Jackson had died. He ignored the slight tremor of his hands as he tightened the straps under his arms, reassuring himself that this unsub wasn't known for using explosives and that it was highly unlikely that anything inside was rigged to explode.

"Ready?" Sam asked, looking grim and deadly in her vest and with her gun tight in her grasp.

"Ready," Jonas affirmed, pulling his own gun out and quietly following Sam as they dashed between the two warehouses that were nearly pressed together.

Inside the warehouse nothing looked like it had been disturbed since the crime scene clean up unit had left. There was a splash of clean concrete where the victim's body had been found, all the blood washed and bleached from the surface. Jonas's eyes darted from place to place, his heart sinking as he wondered if he got it wrong and the unsub was at the funeral after all.

"No one's here," Jonas whispered as he lowered his weapon and turned back to Sam.

Sam kept her weapon up, still examining the room carefully. "He could still be here. The victims weren't killed at the dump sites," she said quietly.

"But there's no indication that they were held at a nearby location either. For all we know-" Jonas was cut off by the sound of metal striking metal and a shout echoing in the distance.

They took off at a run in unison toward the noises, their guns aiming as they stopped outside a doorway and Sam counted down from three on her fingers so they could enter at the same time. They cleared the immediate area but were surrounded by a maze of pallets stacked up so they couldn't see around or above them. Sam waved him down one aisle before disappearing in the opposite direction, leaving Jonas torn between following her and going the way she'd indicated.

A scream to his left made up his mind and Jonas broke into a run as stealthily as he could. It only took him a few moments to reach an opening, his eyes focusing on a man who was bloody and chained to a pillar. He could see blood pooling underneath the man but that the man was still moving and somewhat conscious. His neck was strapped against the pillar with a thin wire and the more his head drooped down the more the wire cut against his throat. Jonas rushed across the empty space, the breath knocked out of him a moment later as he hit the floor with a heavy weight pressing down on his back and the deafening echo of weapons fire filling the air above him. He could barely hear the shout of, "Damn it, Jackson," through the noise.

When the weight rolled off him, Jonas could see Agent O'Neill staring at him while appearing pale and angry. The sounds of Sam and Teal'c taking down the unsub, who had been up on one of the balconies that overlooked the room, briefly drew Jonas's attention before he remembered what he had been doing before he'd been tackled. His chest aching as he pushed himself to his feet, Jonas made it over to the victim. He held the man's head up and checked his breathing and pulse, somewhat amazed that they were all still alive when only moments the air had been filled with flying bullets. "You're okay," Jonas told him, though he wasn't sure at all that the man would make it long enough for an ambulance to arrive.

Jonas was just feeling along his belt for the pocket knife he kept strapped there when O'Neill approached holding something out to him. He took the small set of wire cutters with a muttered thanks and carefully cut the wire from against the man's neck. Together, they managed to lower the man down to the ground and O'Neill put pressure against the visible wounds while Jonas offered reassurances and held the man's hand tightly.

It wasn't until after the ambulance had come and gone, and the unsub handed over to the local police, that Jonas looked at O'Neill. The man looked grim, with blood streaked along his hands and sleeves, and not at all like they had just saved someone's life. Jonas wasn't sure he looked any better though he'd already taken off his bloody kevlar vest. His chest still felt sore, but he knew he'd been in a lot worse shape if he'd actually been shot even with the vest on.

"Thank you," Jonas said, stepping closer to O'Neill but not within striking range. He hadn't missed when O'Neill had called him Jackson, couldn't have missed it, but it didn't mitigate the fact that he'd possibly just saved his life.

"Next time, look before you go running in somewhere, will ya?" O'Neill said gruffly before walking toward the SUV that he and Teal'c had arrived in.

Jonas shrugged, wiping his hands against his shirt again. The shirt was already ruined so there wasn't a point in trying to keep his hands away from it.

"You were correct in recognizing that the unsub was not going to the funeral, Jonas Quinn," Teal'c said, startlingly Jonas.

Jonas smiled a little. "Thanks," he said, glad to see that someone was coming around to him.

"However, you have much to learn in the apprehension of criminals," Teal'c continued as if Jonas hadn't spoken.

"Of course," Jonas agreed as Teal'c walked away. He wasn't sure, but he thought that he'd seen the barest suggestion of a smile in Teal'c's expression.

Sam pressed a towel and a water bottle into Jonas's hands as she approached, already out of her vest, but carrying a grey fleece pullover. "I found these in the trunk. Not exactly fashionable, but the locals get upset when we bloody up the cars unnecessarily," she said.

Jonas opened the water bottle and started to wash the blood from his hands. "Thanks," he said, a little subdued.

"Not bad for your first case with the FBI. Most do worse," she said as he pulled off his shirt and quickly accepted the large pullover as the chilled air rushed against his skin.

"You did worse?" Jonas asked skeptically.

"Well, no. But that doesn't mean I haven't made mistakes in the field," Sam said. "Come on, there will be coffee back at the station. And we can probably fly out tonight."

Jonas climbed into the passenger side of the SUV, leaning back against his seat. They'd saved someone's life, stopped a serial killer from hurting more people. That man would have died if Jonas hadn't figured out where the unsub had gone. But somehow that wasn't enough. He wondered if anything he did could ever be enough to win the approval of O'Neill and the rest of the team. By the time they reached the station, he hadn't decided, but he was damned sure that he would give it his best.


End file.
